If your camera roll is 85% dog photos, you know exactly which coffee shops serve "pup cups," or your dog somehow has a busier social calendar than you do, welcome—you've found your people.
As pets continue their ascent from "man's best friend" to full-fledged family member (and, in some cases, household CEO), one brand is leaning all the way in. Dr. Mahsa Vazin, founder and CEO of PawCo, has just created Genius Dog, the subscription box company creating experiences that help dogs join in on life's best moments, giving pet lovers everything they need to create moments from tea parties and movie nights to summer treats and matching workout sets.
As huge dog lovers, we sat down with Mahsa to chat about the future of dog parenthood, why pet products deserve a glow-up, and the surprisingly big role shared rituals play in strengthening the bond between humans and their four-legged roommates.
Genius Dog feels less like a pet subscription and more like a lifestyle brand. What gap did you see in the market that inspired you to create it?
When I adopted my dog Paco, I finally understood what people meant when they said their dogs are truly part of the family. In those early days, I struggled to find products that actually felt meaningful or thoughtfully designed. So many pet products are used once, tossed aside, or quickly forgotten, and I didn’t want to contribute to that cycle with products that didn’t live up to the experience I wanted for Paco. I started Genius Dog to offer something pet parents didn’t even realize was missing: Curated experiences that bring dogs into the moments and rituals people already love. It’s a more intentional approach to dog ownership that goes beyond the basics and creates opportunities for connection.
You talk a lot about “humanizing” the dog experience. What does that mean to you in practice—and where do you think pet culture is headed next?
The humanization of pets isn’t necessarily new, but it has accelerated significantly in recent years. More and more, people view their pets as family members, which naturally impacts how they think about nutrition, care, wellness, and even shared experiences. Consumers today expect higher standards in the products they buy for themselves, and they’re beginning to expect the same for their pets. That shift is changing the industry in a major way.
For a long time, the pet space felt relatively traditional, with limited innovation beyond the basics. But I believe there’s enormous room to rethink the entire category. Pet parents shouldn’t feel like they have to settle for “good enough.”
What’s one thing people misunderstand about modern dog ownership?
Adopting Paco completely changed my life, and I know so many pet parents feel the same way. Dogs provide an incredible sense of companionship, comfort, and emotional connection—often in ways people underestimate. I think what’s often misunderstood is just how meaningful those relationships really are. Dogs aren’t simply pets; they become part of the rhythm of your everyday life and some of your most important moments. That emotional connection is at the heart of Genius Dog. Everything we create is designed to celebrate and strengthen the bond between dogs and their people.
Can you tell us about creating the themes and which upcoming box or concept you are most excited about right now?
Coming up with new themes is one of the most fun parts of the process for our team. A lot of our brainstorming starts with asking ourselves: “What are the experiences we wish we could share with our dogs?” That can mean anything from going to the movies, shopping at the mall, or taking an art class. Our goal is to reimagine experiences that traditionally haven’t been considered “dog-friendly” and find creative ways to bring dogs into them. One upcoming box I’m especially excited about is our July “workout” theme. It includes products like “pawtein bars,” dog-friendly electrolytes, and matching workout sets for pets and their owners.
What’s the most “genius dog” thing your own dog has ever done?
My dog is honestly great at getting my attention when he wants treats. He’ll either bring me one of his balls or stick his whole nose into the basket of toys we bought for him until he finds the exact toy he wants me to throw. Then we basically have this negotiation system—I throw it, he brings it back, and he gets a treat as his reward. The funniest part is that we’ve kind of developed routines together. We’ve “cooked” together a bunch of times, and last time we made pancakes together. I gave him a dog-safe little piece, and we ended up eating our pancakes at the same time. It felt weirdly wholesome and surprisingly coordinated for a dog-human team.
